


Whatever You Say, Boss

by clgfanfic



Category: Counterstrike (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just after the episode "Survival Instincts," and Peter has to remember just who Stone really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever You Say, Boss

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine One in Ten #3 under the pen name Chris Alexander.

 Walking into his Paris apartment, ex-Scotland Yard Inspector Peter Sinclair dropped his travel bag just inside the door and headed straight to his bedroom.  Stepping out of his shoes, he left them sitting in the center of the floor and walked to the bed, unbuttoning his shirt along the way.  Reaching the edge of the large and inviting bed, he tossed the shirt into the bedspread, then removed his pants, socks, and underwear.

Finally nude, he sighed slightly, wishing he could climb into the inviting warmth and sleep, but that was not to be.  He padded into the small bathroom and turned on the water, filling his tub.  When the steaming water was several inches deep, he climbed in and carefully lowered himself into the almost too-hot liquid.  Sighing deeply, he scooted down so he could lean back against the cold porcelain surface and waited for the tub to fill.

The water rose over his thighs, lifting the hairs off his legs and gently supporting his flaccid penis.  Tiny waves rocked his sex, sending tiny pulses of pleasure through his lower belly.  He closed his eyes, enjoying the slightly erotic sensation.  Without thinking, Peter's hands moved lightly over his own chest, faintly tracing random paths over his skin.

He stroked softly down his throat and breastbone with his right hand while the left pursued a path along the bruised flesh of his left side.  "Damn Stone anyway," he mumbled under his breath.

A slight, lazy smile lifted the corners of his mouth.  "He was right," he answered himself.  "I should've taken a dive."

He cracked his eyes open and studied his chest.  Large blue-black bruises decorated both of his sides and the lower right quadrant of his abdomen.  Stone hadn't pulled his punches--not that he could've and convinced Colonel Grant that he meant business.  Pride had kept Sinclair on his feet and fighting back.  _Stupid, vain pride_ , he thought to himself.

There were times he forgot just what Stone could do, just who the man really was.  He pressed his head back and rolled it side to side on the lip of the tub.  It was so easy to slip into the mistaken assumption that Stone was a colleague.  He wasn't. Ex-Navy SEAL, ex-CIA field operator, Stone was a highly trained, well-seasoned killing machine. His skills and experiences went beyond anything Sinclair could even imagine.

A lecherous grin stretched across Peter's face as he leaned forward and turned the water off.  Stone was also one of the most attractive men he'd met.  Leaning back, he stretched out and let the hot water do its work, leaching out the aches and pains riddling his body.

Peter's eyes closed again as he thought, _Not that Stone's handsome in any traditional way_.  He was too rough around the edges to be considered "handsome."  He was tall and powerfully built with wide, well-muscled shoulders, narrow hips, and long powerful-looking legs.  His arms were developed from daily weight-lifting.  But his hands were a lover's hands.

Peter chuckled softly, his hand coming up to tenderly tease his nipple.  On the screen of his closed eyelids he could see Stone's long fingers, fingers that had explored places no woman ever had.  The man's touch was gentle and loving, at odds with his intense appearance.  The short-cropped, tightly curled black hair, the stubbled face, and the intense blue eyes.

It was the eyes that first attracted Peter.  He pulled on the hard nub of his nipple and ground his butt against the slippery bottom of the tub.  Those damned burning eyes that seemed to look right into his soul to read the secrets hiding there. Secrets that Stone had delighted in bringing out into the light of day, and the shadows of the night.

He shifted hands, rubbing and pulling needily at his other nipple.  His free hand rubbed roughly down his abdomen and he sucked in a sharp breath as he passed over the bruises, then groaned lowly, enjoying the sensation.  His fingers moved snake-like through the tangle of blond hair at his groin until they wrapped around the length of his limp sex.  He thickened slightly when he squeezed, imagining that it was Stone's hand on him, not his own.

In his mind he could see Stone, lying beside him, his hand reaching out to hold him.  He'd squeeze and pull, his fingers working the growing shaft like he was milking a cow…

Peter sighed and moaned softly as he pulled on his growing erection.  The hot water would make it hard to cum, but it felt too good to give up.

While one hand moved from nipple to nipple, pulling, squeezing, and rubbing, the other stroked, pumped, and teased at his cock.  The water lapped at the sides of the tub, small waves of growing need.

Placing his feet against the cool porcelain, Peter scooted down lower in the water.  Then, reaching past his semi-erect cock, he fondled his balls, pulling and squeezing on them while he watched his erection grow harder.  He could imagine the feel of Stone's lips on his cock, licking, sucking, urging him to orgasm.  Sweat broke out on his upper lip and forehead and he bit down on his lower lip, wishing it was Stone's teeth.

Abandoning his aching nipples, Peter ran his hand down his side, over his hip and around the curve of his buttocks until the tip of his finger reached the small tight pucker of his ass.  He pressed forward until his finger slipped inside to just past the first knuckle.  He groaned and grabbed his erection, squeezing the head as he wiggled his finger in his ass.  It was too much.

Pulling his finger free, he sat up.  _Damn, why didn't I invite Stone home with me?_ he wondered.  He pulled the plug and stood, reaching for the large bath-towel that hung on the rack.

He toweled himself dry, attacking his partial erection last.  It immediately grew harder.  He scowled at the randy appendage and shook his head.  There was just one thing to do…

He strode out of the bathroom, coming to an abrupt stop when he reached the bedroom.  His eyes widened and his breath caught as he watched Stone, who was kneeling in the center of the bed, lean forward, reach between his legs and rub lubricant onto and into his ass.  "Took you long enough," he said thickly.  "I was gonna come in there and drag your ass out."

Peter's gaze shifted from Stone to his own now full erection, and back.  Behind the man, the pillows had been arranged so Peter could sit up and lean back against the pillows.  Without a word he walked to the bed and climbed on, then moved to the pillows.  He leaned back, his eyes never leaving Stone's back.

The ex-SEAL handed back the tube of KY and Peter wasted no time squeezing out a dollop and rubbing it over his throbbing cock.  He threaded the cap back on, then leaned over and set the tube on the nightstand.  When he rested back against the pillows again, Stone said, "Lift your knees."

Peter bent his knees and pressed his feet against the bed.

Stone, on hands and knees, moved back toward him.  The man's hairy legs brushed against Peter's naked butt and he stopped.  Straightening on his knees, he reached behind and pulled the cheeks of his ass apart, revealing the glistening, waiting pucker.

Peter grabbed his cock and held it steady as Stone slowly lowered himself.  He moved the tip of his sex so it touched the tight pucker.  He heard Stone take a deep breath and let it out, then felt the muscle relax slightly.  Using his hips, Peter pressed up and felt the tip of his cock begin to enter the man.  _Thank God we're both clean_ , he thought.  _I'd hate to have to wear a condom_.

Stone met the gentle thrust, pushing down and capturing the head of Sinclair's cock.  He groaned and hissed softly, "Oh, yeah…"

Peter thrust his hips again, embedding himself a little deeper in the tight hot hole.  Stone groaned again, pushing down to meet the next thrust with equal force.

Reaching out, Sinclair gripped Stone's hips, pushing him down as he bucked upward again.  "God, yes," he breathed.

"Again," Stone hissed, his head arched back.

Peter complied, thrusting harder this time while pushing down on the man's hips and finally impaling the ex-SEAL on the full length of his cock.

"You're so tight," Sinclair moaned.  "So hot."

Stone squeezed his muscles tight, drawing a sharp gasp from Sinclair.  "You'll make me cum," he warned the ex-SEAL.

"Hang on," Stone said thickly as he slowly leaned forward so his elbows rested on the bed, his ass locked to Peter's groin.  He rocked his hips forward slightly, pulling free a couple of inches, then pushed back, pressing the erection back in.

Sinclair's head pressed back against the pillows, his fingers curling tightly into the flesh of Stone's hips, causing the American to moan in pleasure.  Peter closed his eyes, lost in the sensations that swept over his body.  When Stone rocked forward he took a deep breath, and when the man rocked back, he thrust forward.

Both men moaned.

Stone forced one hand between his legs and grabbed his cock, pumping himself as he rocked back and forth, setting a smooth tempo that Sinclair matched with powerful, hard matching thrusts.           Stone knew neither of them could go much longer, but he was determined to extend their lovemaking as long as possible.  He rocked forward and stopped.

Sinclair whimpered and opened his eyes.  Stone squeezed his muscles again, and the Brit's eyes fell closed again.  "Bloody sod," he hissed through clinched teeth.

Stone sighed, "So close…"

Sinclair was close as well, and he knew what Stone wanted.  Taking a deep breath, he jerked his hips forward and upward, stabbing himself as deeply as possible into the tight passage.  His hands moved off the man's hips, urging him to straighten.  He rubbed his hands up Stone's sides until he found the hard nipples and squeezed.

The soldier's back arched and he rocked his hips faster, harder, grinding his ass onto Sinclair's cock.  Peter met the rhythm, bucking as hard as he could until he came.  Holding onto Stone's chest, he emptied himself into the man.

The ex-SEAL reached down and grabbed the crown of his cock and squeezed hard, allowing himself to experience an organism without ejaculating.  He had more plans for the evening.

When Sinclair's fingers relaxed, Stone leaned forward and rocked one last time, pulling himself free.  He crawled forward, then turned on the bed and joined Peter, leaning back against the pillows, his erection poking up like a flagpole.

"Your turn?" Sinclair asked hopefully.

Stone nodded.  Sitting up, he motioned for Peter to do the same.  The Brit complied and Stone grabbed two of the pillows.  He set them one on top of the other in the center of the bed, but closer to the foot.

Peter pointed to himself and then the pillows, asking the silent question.  Stone nodded.

Crawling to the pillows, Peter lowered himself down onto them so his ass was invitingly elevated and his cock hung down along the cushions.  He listened to Stone grab the KY off the nightstand, then settled back onto the bed.  The slick smacking sounds of the man coating his cock sent a pulse of life through Peter's own.  Then a finger slipped into the crack of Sinclair's ass, delivering a coat of the slippery gel.  That finger moved in teasing circles around the bud of his anus until Peter groaned and pushed back, demanding entry.

Stone lightly, but rapidly tapped his fingertip against the sensitive opening, grinning when Sinclair's feet began to flutter in protest.  He allowed his finger to sink in to the second knuckle, then twisted.  Peter groaned into the bedspread, his fingers curling into the material.  Stone worked the opening a little more, then drew out his finger.

"God, I'm hard again," Sinclair half-growled.

"Good," Stone said, spreading Peter's legs a little further apart and positioning himself between them.

Pulling Sinclair's cheeks apart, he held them open and positioned the tip of his cock against the well-prepared pucker.  "Push," he told Peter.

The Brit did as he was told, driving back and forcing the head of Stone's cock into his ass.  "Oh, God," he sighed.

"Next time I want you to do this to me," Stone said softly, stroking his hands down Peter's back.  "But I want you to tie me down."

The image exploded in Sinclair's mind and he moaned and ground himself down further on Stone's cock.  The ex-SEAL met the push with equal force, sliding in to the halfway mark.  Then he pulled back out so only the head of his cock was sheathed in the tight passage.  He leaned forward slightly, saying, "Then I want you to fuck me… like this."  He impaled his cock into Sinclair's ass.

"Yes," Sinclair hissed, grinding his hips in small, tight circles.

Stone, already close, knew he wouldn't last.  Leaning over Sinclair, he slid his hand across the man's lower belly, then grabbed the stiff cock, working that while he rode in and out of the hot sheath.  When he felt the first rush of semen squeeze out between his fingers, he came himself.

Pulling out, Stone flopped down on the bed.

Sinclair pushed himself up so he was resting on his knees.  The satisfied expression on Stone's face prompted a grin and he reached for the two pillows, tossing them at the man, who caught them and shoved them back into place at the head of the bed.

Peter maneuvered around and lay down next to his lover.  "Stone, you have the worst timing."

"Oh?" the man replied, his eyebrows climbing.

"I just took a bath."

Stone chuckled lowly, one finger gently tracing the outline of one of the bruises.  "You're gonna be sore as hell tomorrow."

Sinclair snorted.  "And whose fault was that?"

"Told ya you should've taken a dive."

"Had to make it convincing."

Stone's gaze shifted from the bruises to Peter's face.  "I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know, Sport," Sinclair assured.  "But you're right."

"What?"

"I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

Stone grinned.  "Guess I'll just have to hang around, maybe give you a massage tomorrow."

"Hmm," Sincalir said, appearing to carefully consider the idea.  "I think that might be a good idea…"

"Yeah," Stone said, rolling off the bed and walking around to Peter's side.  He extended his hand as he said, "You never know what might… come up."

Peter accepted the proffered hand and allowed Stone to help him stand.  "I have an idea or two."

"That all?" Stone said, leading them back to the bathroom and a hot shower.

"Trust me, Sport.  It'll be more than enough."

"We'll see," Stone said, closing the door after them.

The End


End file.
